


Cover Me Like Skin

by witchpointe



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, slaps this baby. 12k of pure indulgence see each chapter for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchpointe/pseuds/witchpointe
Summary: Hakyeon never expected anything more from any of them.or: the one where hakyeon is everyone's gay awakening
Relationships: Cha Hakyeon | N/Han Sanghyuk | Hyuk, Cha Hakyeon | N/Jung Taekwoon | Leo, Cha Hakyeon | N/Kim Wonshik | Ravi, Cha Hakyeon | N/Lee Hongbin, Cha Hakyeon | N/Lee Jaehwan | Ken
Comments: 17
Kudos: 55





	1. Jaehwan

**Author's Note:**

> twitter user lesbiantaekwoon: hakyeon was everyone's gay awakening  
> me, opening google docs: you're so right
> 
> this fic evolved from pwp to a way for me to attempt to normalize the many different ways mlm/nblm exist together and physically love each other. we do so much more than have heteronormative sounding anal sex, and i simply wish that were more represented.

It's Jaehwan first, because of course it is. He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, he wears it right on his face. Especially in those days, pre-debut, when the biggest thing about him truly was his commanding voice. It would take Hakyeon's breath away, certain notes he would hit, sounding entirely effortless, entrancing a room full of his competitors. There was never really any doubt in Hakyeon's mind that Jaehwan would be chosen, only whether or not Hakyeon would be alongside him. He had already gone through so much rejection.

They were both needy, tactile, and lonely—the specific pressure of a competition, surrounded by people both attractive and averse—and Jaehwan was so clearly attracted. To everyone, if Hakyeon was honest; he had a peculiar way of flirting with all genders that was just the inappropriate side of kindness. And Hakyeon, well, he loved the attention.

Jaehwan told Hakyeon a few times, between shared lazy kisses, that he was the most lovely boy in the competition. A lie, Hakyeon was sure of at the time, especially with someone as pretty as Hongbin around. Now though, he thinks perhaps Jaehwan was telling the truth. Hakyeon has learned many things about the state of attraction since he was 22, that it involves so much more than a pretty face or a specific body, and the words Jaehwan chose elicit a certain feeling of being entranced by someone wholly. 

They never had the time or space to do anything particularly risky during the show itself, and Hakyeon isn't sure either of them were ready for more, besides. Tasting his mouth, gripping his sides, giggling breathlessly together in stolen moments of covert companionship—it was enough. 

Hakyeon never expected anything more from any of them.


	2. Taekwoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings, unless you hate things sugary sweet

Taekwoon happens so naturally that it feels like breathing. They cuddle often, fall asleep in each other's arms, wake up warm and happy and groggy molded together. It isn't lust that lures Hakyeon to kiss them the first time, but an effortless sense of belonging and relaxation, an appreciation for the quiet space that they always hold for him. Taekwoon accepts him with a muted noise of surprise.

It's soft and delicate and so easy, the way their mouths move together. Taekwoon is docile and sleepy-eyed; they melt into the kiss after the first few moments, placing their fingertips on Hakyeon's cheek. They give as he receives, receive as he gives.

"You mean so much to me," Hakyeon says in a slow breath between them. He means it then as much as he ever has. He's liberal with his affection, makes it a point to tell friends and family and lovers alike of his love, and in this moment he isn't sure which of the three Taekwoon is, only that they feel lush and dreamy like napping in the sun. "I love you more than words can say."

Taekwoon closes their eyes and sighs, contentment bared on their open face. "Then don't say it with words."

"How should I say it then?" Hakyeon presses a kiss to their cheekbone.

Taekwoon pouts, keeping their eyes closed. They bring Hakyeon's hand to their chest and press it down firmly in the middle, holding it there. Hakyeon contemplates teasing them, goading them into specifics, but Taekwoon is most comfortable with their own silence, and Hakyeon wants them to feel good, above all.

He slides his hand away from Taekwoon's grip, across their chest. Their nipple is small, and so he rubs at it gently with a fingertip. Taekwoon jerks the slightest bit away then stills under the attention, biting their lip. Their voice is hushed and kept inside their throat, but breathless enough to tell Hakyeon that they're taking pleasure from it.

Hakyeon snuggles closer, resting his chin on their arm. He doesn't miss the way Taekwoon's hand disappears under the covers, but neither does he follow it. He's concentrated on their face, the light parting of their lips, the flutter of their eyelashes.

Their hips begin to shift, slow circles that disturb the bed covers. They whine, lost to the moment, and Hakyeon's heart aches with fondness.

"Do you feel good, angel?"

Taekwoon nods, licking their lips. "Yeonnie." They pant, brows drawn together. "Kiss me, talk to me… do something."

And until then Hakyeon might have been a little stung at the lack of eye contact, insecurities whispering that behind Taekwoon's closed eyes they were somewhere else, with someone else.

With their unoccupied hand, they tug him down into a kiss and keep him there, gripping the back of his neck tightly. He purrs pretty things between kisses, an unfiltered stream of praise and worship. Taekwoon’s desperation builds, their moans deepen, and they open their eyes, lovely stare so deep and sincere. They plead with Hakyeon as if he controls their desire, and he takes their chin in his hand, kisses between his own fingers, coaxes Taekwoon through their orgasm.

They soften, going weak after the strain. Hakyeon’s boxer briefs are damp, excited from Taekwoon’s high, but he wants this afterglow more than his own release. He plays with the ends of their hair, whispers his devotion, tucked into Taekwoon’s side like it’s where he belongs.

He’s humming an aimless melody into their neck when they turn, thin fingers drowsily grasping at the elastic of his underwear. 

He guides their arm up around his waist. “Later, Woonie. Go to sleep.”

They don’t press further; they drape their arm across Hakyeon’s side and drift off, facing him, noses almost touching.

Hakyeon sits on their face the next morning, and he’s entirely sure the whole dorm can hear.


	3. Wonshik

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for slight kenvi haha

Hakyeon suspected Wonshik wasn't straight early on, a fact that Wonshik apparently thought he was hiding well. And he was, for the most part, keeping it from others, due highly to the fact that he was running from it himself. Hakyeon saw so much of his younger self in Wonshik, in the subtle ways he was both excited and terrified by other men, the way he was uncomfortable with female attention. But they weren't close at first, not close enough for him to open up. It took awhile.

Hakyeon came out to his band members in the most casual way he knew how: a vaguely sexual comment about the hero of the movie they were watching, spoken nonchalant around a mouthful of popcorn.

Jaehwan giggled and Taekwoon sat precariously still; they had already experienced Hakyeon's preference.

Sanghyuk's eyes had gone wide. "You like boys, hyung?"

"Mmhmm."

"Only boys?" Wonshik had asked, after a short silence. He sounded a little hopeful, maybe, but mostly afraid.

"Shut  _ up _ ," Hongbin said, raising the volume on the television. "I can't hear."

Hakyeon pushes him after that: pays more attention to him, particularly of the physical kind. Envelopes him in warm hugs, nuzzles into his neck. Finds reasons to sit next to him, to hold his hand, to pull him into skinship on camera. He's trying to make a nonverbal point:  _ Look, Shikkie. It's okay. Let yourself have this.  _ It's awkward at first, but he settles into it like a new normal, feigning displeasure, pushing him away only to smother a smile when he comes right back. It's a cute game. 

But Wonshik is nothing if not a little thick. It takes well into their Hyde promotions for Wonshik to crack open and spill his insecurities. Hakyeon hadn't been  _ trying _ to get caught sucking off a stage hand, he just wasn't being very careful about it. And Wonshik had been in the wrong place at the right time.

He avoids Hakyeon's touch, will barely make eye contact with him, looks almost disgusted when he does. Hakyeon falters in his confidence—did he read it all horribly wrong? Was Wonshik disgusted by men loving men?

It's a few days later when Wonshik enters his room late at night while he's reading, trying to make himself sleepy for bed. Wonshik plops dramatically onto the mattress next to him, bleach blonde hair flopping as Hakyeon is jostled, too. He eyes Wonshik a little harshly, fits his bookmark neatly into his page, and shakes the hair out of his eyes.

Neither of them seem to want to talk first.

After a few minutes of staring a hole into the side of his head, Hakyeon is gearing up to speak, something along the lines of  _ Say something or get  _ **_out_ ** , but Wonshik's deep voice breaks the silence first. 

"How did you know you were gay?"

Hakyeon sits back, setting his book to the side. Well,  _ that's  _ quite a question. One he's never been asked before. He's been asked absurd questions about his sexuality:  _ why _ are you gay? (Because that's how the universe made me.)  _ How _ can you not be into her? (She's gorgeous, but that's how being gay works.)

But this isn't passive aggressive judgment in the form of a question. This is Wonshik reaching out for help.

"I didn't always know." Hakyeon licks his lips, raises his face to stare at the same yellow circle of lamplight on the ceiling that has Wonshik so entranced. "I thought I was bisexual as a teenager. I wasn't  _ disgusted _ by women's bodies, sex with them didn't feel gross. And I was taught that woman repulsion was 'the gay experience.'"

Hakyeon uses finger quotes, then rolls his eyes.

Wonshik glances over at him, looking more confused than ever.

"So," he looks away, "what  _ is _ the gay experience?"

"Well," Hakyeon starts, picking through his own memories and experiences, "I think it's not the same for everyone. But I came to realize that when I fantasized about anyone, when I thought about dating and loving, it was always with a man. I liked female attention, but I didn't crave it. I loved my girlfriends, but I wasn't  _ in love _ with them."

Wonshik is thinking deeply about this, evidenced by the stern look on his face. Hakyeon lets himself get lost in his own memories—the first time he kissed another boy, age fourteen, the thrill it sent through him to be wanted. The first time another man called him  _ boyfriend _ , age eighteen, his first year at Howon. How bright and invincible it made him feel, the euphoria. The first time he had a man between his legs, the same man, the same year. How much  _ better _ it felt to be with a man, not because he was good—he was a bit clumsy and sloppy—but because he was, simply, a man.

"I don't know what I am," Wonshik says after a big sigh. "Nothing feels right."

Hakyeon scoots down his bed to lie down, to mimic Wonshik's position, careful not to get too close. "It's okay to be confused."

Wonshik breathes out, huffy. "No it's not. I hate not knowing. I hate not feeling like I belong anywhere."

"Hey." Hakyeon grabs his hand before he can remind himself not to. "You belong here, with us. No matter what you are or aren't. Whether you ever figure it out or not."

"I think—I might like men. More than anyone else."

"Yeah?" Hakyeon squeezes his hand. "That's a good start."

Wonshik lets his hand be held, massaged gently. Hakyeon wishes he could do more for him, wishes he could take his insecurities and doubts away, really impress upon him how okay it is to simply not know, to find peace in the blurred lines. Hakyeon raises the back of Wonshik's hand to his mouth, kissing it.

"I keep dreaming about you with a dick in your mouth."

Wonshik rushes through the sentence like he doesn't want to say it, but has to get it out. Hakyeon clutches their hands to his chest, throws his head back and laughs, making himself a little dizzy with the suddenness of it.

"I'm so sorry," he says between giggles, "Please forgive hyung for giving you nightmares."

"They haven't really been, uh, nightmares."

Hakyeon stills. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, dry and rough when he swishes it around his gums. That couldn't mean what he thinks it means, could it? Wonshik is stumbling over his words, he must be, uncomfortable with the topic and the situation—

"Sorry," Wonshik mutters, sitting up, scooting back, pulling away—Hakyeon doesn't let go of his hand, and Wonshik isn't expecting resistance. He's tugged back down, half bent onto the bed.

"No," Hakyeon drawls, and realizes he's pleading for Wonshik to stay, to explain himself. Anything but run away and leave an unasked question buzzing between them.

But Wonshik tugs harder, and this time Hakyeon lets him go. He stammers a few more apologies, rubbing his palms against his sides, and backs out of the room, closing the door. 

It bruises Hakyeon for awhile, that Wonshik avoids him outright, to the point that Sanghyuk pouts and Taekwoon hovers anxiously. Hongbin huffs when Wonshik places him between them on car rides, asking what their problem is. Wonshik denies any accusations, and Hakyeon shrugs, unwilling to make Wonshik more uncomfortable than he already is.

His signature patience wanes the longer this goes on, the more it looks like Wonshik is willing to let this be the new normal. He ends up a resentful, dramatic brand of pissy that has Taekwoon even more on edge.

He isn't used to being rejected. And it wasn't a proper rejection, he knows, he wasn't even the one who  _ said _ anything. He never saw Wonshik in that light off-stage, with his coy demeanor and naivety. But Hakyeon's shadows whisper his insecurities back to him, mock his gender and sexuality and allure, things he's fought so hard to be stable in. His mood isn't truthfully traceable back to Wonshik. 

But he misses him. And he hurts.

It would have perhaps gone on for a very long time, gradually wearing the whole group down, waves turning rock into sand. Or perhaps one or both of them would have broken. But Hongbin is impatient, and Hongbin has a big mouth.

Wonshik and Hakyeon are sat on opposite ends of the couch, somewhat pointedly. Sanghyuk wants to show Wonshik something on his phone, something he learned about production and was eager to hear his hyung's feedback on. Wonshik is, unquestionably, paying more attention to ignoring Hakyeon and fidgeting, leaning into the armrest, to really follow what Sanghyuk is saying. Hakyeon shakes his crossed leg in agitation, sipping his tea louder than necessary. Sanghyuk is bothered, it shows in the way he bites his lips and plays with his hair, but he is a good, polite boy, and he presses forward with determination. 

"Suck his dick or something, hyung," Hongbin says around a mouthful of cereal as he carries it back to his room. "This is so fucking stupid."

It isn't until Hongbin closes his door emphatically that Hakyeon bubbles up with laughter. He doesn't know what Wonshik has or hasn't told him, but it's so like Hongbin to cut through social bullshit. Hakyeon sees it now, from Hongbin's point of view, two grown men dancing around each other for months, borne from pride and shame, where there shouldn't be room for either.

Sanghyuk looks mortified. He rises from the floor, blurts some excuse about watching Hongbin play a game, cheeks dusted pink as he hurries to the same room Hongbin disappeared into. The door shuts much quieter this time.

Wonshik is embarrassed as well, less outright, and he plays with a fold in his jeans with a single finger. "Is it that funny?"

Hakyeon relaxes back into the cushions, feeling lighter than he has in weeks. "No," he sighs, smile still on his lips. "It isn't funny at all. I'm sorry for the way I've acted."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Suck my dick."

"Oh." Hakyeon brushes his bangs out of his face. "I would, if that's something you wanted."

Hakyeon turns sideways on the couch to face him, long legs folded beneath himself. Wonshik sits with his hands in his lap, his brow creased in concentration.

"I don't know. I don't—I don't think of you that way. But I want to try it with someone I trust."

Hakyeon taps his fingers against his chin. "Do you know that Jaehwan is bisexual?"

"Really?"

"Yes," Hakyeon says, his smile turning smug at the sparkle in Wonshik's eyes. He reads his boys so well. "I've never had sex with him, but he's a very good kisser."

"Do you think he would—"

"I don't know. But I think that you trust him, and I think he would make you very comfortable."

There is a stretching silence, during which Hongbin yells something in English, and Sanghyuk can be heard giggling. The rest of the silence feels bloated, broken only by the faucet dripping in the kitchen.

Then Wonshik moves, pulls Hakyeon into a strong, unexpected hug. Hakyeon strokes his shoulder, pats his hair, but Wonshik stays very still, as if he's pouring all the things he can't say into the gesture.

"Thank you, hyung."


	4. Hongbin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drumroll* its pegging
> 
> this part came out uh.. more kinky than i imagined. there's d/s elements, it's rough sex, a hint degradation, and has a bit of breathplay. i like to think i've made it obvious that these things are done safely and consensually, but if any of these things are potential triggers for you, just skip to the next chapter! the chasang is disgustingly sappy 😋

Hongbin is a surprise to him—so typically masculine, so typically  _ straight _ . Every woman wants a man like Hongbin. Tall, broad, gorgeous, great smile, emotionally distant. It's in the heterosexual handbook.

Hakyeon's always been touchy-feely with Hongbin, and he'll admit that it wasn't always innocent. But he always thought it was  _ safe _ . Because Hongbin talks about women, their legs and their hair, how their clothing clings to their body.

Hongbin doesn't date. Hongbin abhors the idea of dating. What Hakyeon adores about romance: holding hands, kissing, cuddling, long verbal tangents about feelings and desires, Hongbin avoids like the plague. "It's just such a  _ chore _ ," he explained once. "I don't get why anyone likes it."

But Hakyeon doesn't judge. Hongbin is just Hongbin, and he has a right to feel however he feels. He seems quite happy without partners, and Hakyeon is happy that he's happy.

They're in Osaka when it happens. Hakyeon and Hongbin have been rehearsing their Toxic stage for weeks, and Hakyeon knows it looks fantastic. The fans are going to love it. The remix of the song is smooth and sensual, the choreography perfect for the way he likes to move his body. He's so excited to do it live with the stage lights and crowd. 

It doesn't disappoint. The lights go down and he's lit from the back, a moody dark-orange bordering on red. His mind goes clear in a meditative state as it so often does when he's dancing by himself, unworried about his pitch or tone or his place in relation to the other members.

He feels sexy in a way he can nowhere else, thousands of eyes on him and the way his body moves. His oversized shirt sways, offering peeks at his soft tummy, a body part not usually on display. It makes his hips swing farther, with more intent.

The lights switch to cooler colors as he and Hongbin strut past each other to switch sides, and Hakyeon can't help but break his poker face to give him a tiny smile. Starlights are loving it, they're doing great.

He struggles his way through the couples dancing, fumbling through props and the woman's wild moves. He goes rigid around female dancers, has to really focus on hitting every move instead of letting it flow from muscle memory—he's tried to play up the sex appeal, but he simply can't  _ feel _ it, not the way a dancer is supposed to. 

His hands wander his own body and his neck swings in circles, fanning out his hair and flicking sweat away. He and Hongbin approach each other, swing from side to side, and then Hongbin looks at him.

Hakyeon is  _ supposed _ to lie his arm across Hongbin's shoulder and pose to let the music fade out. But Hongbin's head is tilted, neck bared and jaw forward. His hair is wild, lips parted, and his heavy-lidded eyes watch Hakyeon in a haze. A haze Hakyeon has seen on a number of men's faces, but only while he was  _ fucking _ them.

Lust punctures Hakyeon's belly. For a moment they stare at one another, and Hakyeon feels the hunger rise in his veins. He steps forward, aggressive, tilting his head in Hongbin's face, watches as his eyes slip closed in a helpless show of submission.

Hakyeon's hand combs through Hongbin's hair, clutching a fistful at the crown. Hongbin moans as his neck goes slack and allows Hakyeon to pull it back and around, admiring the open obedience of his features. Hakyeon's hand falls to his shoulder, gripping it hard with the points of his fingers. Hongbin's doe eyes are gentle, raw, inviting.

As the stage goes dark and the music fades out, Hongbin's fucked-out expression haunts Hakyeon's thoughts. Neither of them move, breathing heavily into each other's faces.

"Hyung," Hongbin groans between breaths, reaching out to blindly clutch at Hakyeon's chest. "Fuck."

Honest to god, Hakyeon has no recollection of the rest of the performances that night. He vaguely remembers the drive to their hotel, Sanghyuk and Jaehwan filling the silence with nonsense as Hongbin stares shamelessly. Distinctly, he remembers the bemused look on Taekwoon's face as he barks a sudden change in sleeping arrangements, forcing his usual cuddle partner on Jaehwan and taking Hongbin to their room. Through it all, Hongbin stays quiet, dormant. As Hakyeon pulls him to the tenth floor, room 1009, he's languid and shy, and Hakyeon can almost picture him as he was a few years before, long hair wild and face hidden, nervously pulling at the cuffs of his sweaters.

"Tell me you want this," Hakyeon begs, as soon as the door is closed.

He hasn't bothered to turn on the lights, but Osaka illuminates them through the sheer white curtains. Hongbin wants, he nods his agreement, but Hakyeon still wonders what's inside his mind, what he expects. 

Those are exactly the kind of questions, though, that would drive Hongbin away. So Hakyeon presses his body against Hongbin, feeling his heat from thigh to chest, lingers there studying Hongbin's face, giving him the opportunity to back away, to change his mind. Hakyeon ghosts his fingers down Hongbin's spine, and in return Hongbin shivers, arches against him, makes a weak sound that Hakyeon will savor for years to come.

"It's been awhile for you," Hakyeon whispers, not a question, but an observation of the obviously touch starved. He tucks two of his fingers into Hongbin's waistband then drags them around his waist to the front. "Have you been fucked by a man before?"

"No," Hongbin says. He drags his pretty, pretty teeth across his lip. "Hyung, please."

"Say my name." Hakyeon tugs at the ties of Hongbin's shorts. "Say it right."

Hongbin breathes his name, sans honorific, like it sets him off balance. Hakyeon makes a low sound of approval in his throat and lowers his eyes to Hongbin's middle as he lifts off his shirt. Hongbin is slight and soft where Hakyeon's hands are grabbing his waist, and the juxtaposition makes him tighten his grip, fingers digging in.

Hakyeon leans in to kiss him, but Hongbin leans back, no more than he has to in order to make a point, bringing his fingers to Hakyeon's lips. "No kissing. Please." He licks his lips. "Not on the lips."

"I'm sorry." 

Hakyeon truly means it, remembers that Hongbin doesn't like kissing, it's only that it's natural for him when he's loving someone—

"It's fine," Hongbin says, before Hakyeon can worry himself into a problem. He smiles, sharp at the edge, and reaches underneath Hakyeon's shirt to pinch both of his nipples.

Hakyeon jumps back with a choked off shout. 

"I found them," Hongbin says. Hakyeon thinks he might be going for doe-eyed and cute, but his playful impishness is hard to hide

"Your hands are so cold."

"Then warm them up." Hongbin tucks his hands into the back pockets of Hakyeon's jeans. " _ Hakyeon _ ."

And that's bold even if he'd asked for it, even if he likes when Hongbin gets bratty. He rather thinks he liked it more when Hongbin was docile. So he cups Hongbin's ass with his own, much bigger hands, and shoves him back against the door. Hongbin goes readily, though startled, and Hakyeon crowds against him before he can move.

Hakyeon smiles, smug against Hongbin's tilted neck. He cradles Hongbin softly, then bites down hard, releases, then bites again. Hongbin rakes at Hakyeon's back with stubby fingers, muffling staccato moans, and Hakyeon feels his twitching interest against the thigh that's shoved between his legs.

He lets himself indulge for a moment, while he sucks on Hongbin's jaw and pulls him higher up his thigh, what it might be like to ride Hongbin—to bounce and clench on his cock until he's a whining, tired mess. It's appealing, and Hakyeon has the protection for it, but he thinks it isn't what either of them  _ really _ want. Hongbin wants to be ravaged; Hongbin is playing the lamb led to slaughter, and Hakyeon wants the leverage to  _ consume _ him.

Hakyeon shoves the rest of Hongbin's clothes off his hips and leads him, hand around his neck, to the routine white bedsheets of the hotel bed. Hongbin is eager, crawls across the bed and lies on his back so sweetly, legs spread, one hand in his hair and the other stroking his lower belly, his thigh, his balls, everywhere but where he wants it most.

But Hongbin is obescient, all things considered. He wants to feel good, but he wants Hakyeon to control it.

"Good boy," Hakyeon says, bringing Hongbin's ankle up to his mouth to kiss it. Hongbin squeezes his thigh between his fingers. "Don't move."

Hakyeon gathers his things from his suitcase. He always has them on the road, especially in other countries—foreign men intrigue him, what can he say—but he never imagined he'd be taking them out for Hongbin.

He switches on a single bedside lamp, affixed to the wall, then returns to the foot of the bed to drop his things. Hongbin has sat up to watch him, legs bent underneath himself and hands on his thighs. He looks exceedingly beautiful—he's always pretty, it's part of his job, but right now he looks enticing in a way very specific to Hakyeon's tastes: vulnerable, pure, trusting, brown hair glowing golden in the soft white light.

He considers telling Hongbin this as he removes his own clothes, but decides it might err too far on the side of romantic for him. He gives Hongbin a smirk instead, the same one he uses in front of cameras, a look that asserts that he knows exactly how nice his body is, and exactly how much others want it. Hongbin rolls his eyes but still averts them, grabbing at the bottle of lube on the bed and turning it over in his hand, then sticks out his tongue.

"Why is it apple flavored?"

Hakyeon busies himself stepping into the harness, pulling it, adjusting it to fit tight across his hips and thighs.

"I'd rather taste apple than dick."

Hongbin looks at Hakyeon's cock. Simple but well-made, thin straps of leather and six inches of black silicone.

Hongbin grabs it and looks up at him, confusion clear on his face. "You use lube when you're blowing people?"

Hakyeon resists the urge to pet his hair and say something vaguely condescending about his lack of experience.

Instead, he says, "Would you like to try it?"

Hongbin's eyes widen, then drop back to Hakyeon's cock. He bites the inside of his cheek and looks back up. "You like it even though—you can't feel it?"

"Yes," Hakyeon says. He lets himself run his fingers through Hongbin's hair this time. "It would turn me on a lot to see my cock in your mouth. But only if you want to."

"I want to," Hongbin says immediately. He bends toward it, mouth open, to prove his commitment, but Hakyeon chuckles and steps back.

He grabs one of the many fluffed pillows and sits on the edge of the bed, dropping the pillow on the floor between his legs. "It will be easier like this, for both of us."

Hongbin nods, clearly happy to be told what to do. He rests before Hakyeon on the floor, and Hakyeon feels the inevitable rush of heat between his legs at having men on their knees. The gender euphoria is there too, muted behind his desire, but no less sincere.

He lets Hongbin taste the lube, and when he agrees to the taste, covers the length of his cock in long, practiced strokes, savoring being observed. It's the same gratification, in a way, of being watched on stage.

Hongbin pushes his hand away before too long, plainly impatient. He pokes his tongue out, testing, tasting, and then takes him half into his mouth and sucks. Hakyeon assumes that Hongbin knows what he's doing on some level, would bet his life that plenty of people have sucked Hongbin off. But he isn't ready for the combination of Hongbin grabbing his thighs and taking him deeper, looking up through his lashes at the same time.

Hakyeon raises his hips on the instinct of seeing such submission alone. Hongbin gags, fingers tensing, closes his eyes as spit and lube gush from his mouth, down his chin, out of Hakyeon's sight.

Hakyeon gasps and moans, pushing forward again, taking Hongbin's face in his hands. He positions his fingers to feel the way in which Hongbin works around him, the jump of his throat when he gags, the movement of his jaw and tongue.

They work together playing with different rhythms: Hongbin leading, Hakyeon leading, slow and deep, fast and shallow. Hakyeon is loud, he always has been, and every time he moans Hongbin's eyes flutter shut, mirroring a much quieter moan of his own.

The urge for more rises steadily, and he's sure Hongbin feels the same, saw his hand disappear between his own legs awhile ago. So he pulls Hongbin off, guiding his face up. He wants so  _ badly _ to kiss the taste of lube from Hongbin's mouth, but he would never dare push a boundary so clearly set. Instead he licks the apple-flavored saliva from Hongbin's chin and laughs when he gets called gross.

"I want to fuck you." Eyes heavy, Hakyeon emphasizes his point with a tug to Hongbin's hair. "Do you still want me to?"

Hongbin agrees in a breathy voice, high and quiet like he's far away. He lies back down on the bed, fucking into his own hand while watching Hakyeon clean himself and roll on a condom.

Hakyeon watches Hongbin touch himself, enjoys the way his narrow hips push back into the bedspread. 

"I want you from behind," Hakyeon says.

It isn't a command, but Hongbin rolls over as if it is, his long frame balanced on his knees and shoulder, face pressed into the bed. He looks _so_ _good_ , thighs spread and taut, ass in the air, lean arm tapering down to where he clutches the bedspread, kneading like a cat. Inviting, waiting.

Hakyeon kneels onto the bed behind him. He can't help but grab Hongbin's ass, spread him apart, grope the muscles underneath his fingers. He debates whether or not Hongbin would enjoy being eaten out, but decides against it when the simple press of Hakyeon's middle finger against his hole makes his entire body shake. He thinks Hongbin might agree to it, but he also thinks it might overwhelm him.

He bites his ass instead, the cushy sensitive part right before it turns into thigh. Hongbin jolts, then moans, a sound Hakyeon can tell is muffled by fingers in his mouth.

"Hongbin."

A vague moan in response. 

"You've never been fucked, but have you fucked yourself before?"

Hongbin waits to answer, and Hakyeon can't tell if it's because he's embarrassed or stubborn.

"Yeah." Hongbin's wet fingers play with his lips, and Hakyeon knows it's an idle movement, but  _ fuck _ does it turn him on. "Not often. Not for awhile."

"That's okay," Hakyeon says, coating his fingers. The room smells sticky-sweet again. "I'll be careful."

"I don't want you to be careful," Hongbin whines.

He wonders for a moment if he's too big for Hongbin. It's thinner than the average cock, and six inches is hardly his biggest, but he thinks it's bound to hurt a little regardless. He knows he can be gentle, knows he can make it feel good—but wonders how that will play out in their game.

"You say that now," Hakyeon says, warmth bleeding into his voice as he soothes Hongbin's hip with one hand and circles his rim with the other.

"Want you."

"Okay, darling," Hakyeon says, letting the pet name slip. Hongbin doesn't seem to notice, or care, and so Hakyeon fingers him slowly, only his middle finger, watching his face for signs of discomfort. "Tell me if I hurt you. Hold up a single finger if I do anything you don't like."

"I  _ want _ you to hurt me," Hongbin argues.

Hakyeon suppresses an eye-roll because that's not what he  _ means _ , but he thinks Hongbin understands—he's never been shy about speaking up or setting boundaries, and Hakyeon doesn't think he'll start here. But if Hongbin wants it rough, he can comply, in attitude if nothing else.

He slides his hand from Hongbin's hip to the back of his skull, spreading his fist to push Hongbin's face harder into the bed. "Don't talk back to me."

"I don't—"

Hakyeon gathers a fistful of Hongbin's hair and tugs, hard enough to interrupt him and pull his face from the bed. At the same time he adds another finger, hoping the pain will distract him from the discomfort.

"Shut up."

He practically feels Hongbin dissolve underneath his hands. The strain leaves his back, his body sags, and his fingers return to his parted mouth. Any resistance his fingers had felt is gone. 

It strikes him that he is controlling Hongbin at both ends, a puppet and it's master, and he thinks maybe Hongbin might do anything he asks of him, if only he barks the order harsh enough. That, he thinks, is a very addictive feeling.

Hakyeon removes his fingers and blows softly against Hongbin's hole, just to hear the offended squeak he gets in return. He watches Hongbin squirm while he slicks his cock, wishes for the hundredth time that it were real, that he could feel Hongbin from the inside as he fills him up gradually, draping himself over Hongbin's back. Still, he loves the wetness slicking the thick hair of his inner thighs.

When his hips meet Hongbin's ass he bites into his shoulder. Such a broad expanse of skin to bruise, and he plans to dress Hongbin in red and purple before he's finished. He takes his time, deepens the hickey and spreads it down between his shoulder blades, filling his mouth with as much of Hongbin's flesh as he can get.

Hongbin stays still at first, face pinched into a grimace; gradually his hand leaves his mouth to clutch at the bed again, and he rocks back into Hakyeon, testing.

Hakyeon snaps forward, shocking Hongbin into opening his eyes. No complaints—so Hakyeon does it again, angles Hongbin's ass steeper and does it again, sharper, more calculated.

His cries are jumpy, shaky outbursts that might be a jumbled exclamation of pain, but his erratic hips drive back searching for more, so Hakyeon fucks him sincerely—deeply, reasonably slow, a balanced rhythm to break Hongbin in and leave him breathless.

Breathy moans build in confidence until they're deep and full, rising from within Hongbin's core. Hakyeon watches his cock slide in and out of Hongbin, so easy, so messy; he smells sex and sweat and the generic spice of Hongbin's scent. He needs to be closer, to have more control. He uses the bed for leverage to lean closer, licks a long, messy curve up Hongbin's shoulder and sucks the sweat off the back of his neck. 

"How do I feel?" Hakyeon whispers into his hairline.

Hongbin doesn't answer—he gives an irritable whine and tells Hakyeon to go faster, reaching behind to latch onto Hakyeon's thigh like it might spur him on.

Hakyeon slows just to make a point, reaches for Hongbin's nipple with his fingernails.

"I asked you a  _ question _ ."

Hongbin huffs, in the contrary way he does, but its effect isn't quite as harsh when he's bent into submission.

"You're okay," he pants, "I guess."

Hakyeon rakes his nails down Hongbin's torso, digging in cruelly between the lines of his abs. He pulls out and forces Hongbin flat into the mattress until his entire weight is pressing in on him. Hakyeon seizes Hongbin's jaw, pulls Hongbin's head back against his shoulder. His palm blocks Hongbin's mouth, and his fingers pinch his nose closed. Hakyeon watches carefully for a sign of distress, purposefully leaves Hongbin's hands free to signal any displeasure. Hongbin merely moans and struggles between Hakyeon's chest and the mattress.

"If I'm so inadequate, maybe I should go fuck Taekwoon."

Hongbin whines. Hakyeon lies his face gently against the side of Hongbin's head, his mouth positioned to whisper into his ear.

"I'll leave you here fucked open and pathetic to finish yourself with your stubby little fingers."

Hongbin shakes his head rapidly, eyes watering. He says something, muffled against Hakyeon's palm, and Hakyeon waits a few delicious seconds to savor Hongbin's absolute submission before sliding his hand up into his hair.

Hongbin gasps a deep breath, hips grinding into the bed.

Hakyeon kisses his cheekbone. "What were you saying, darling?"

"I need you. Please,  _ please _ , I'm so empty."

Hakyeon hums as he lifts himself up, aligns his cock. "Poor baby," he says, filling him again, watching him release a breath and shiver. "Gave in so easily."

Hakyeon gives him what he wants, the speed, the depth. He's overheated and his thighs protest with every thrust, but the sight of Hongbin sprawled beneath him and begging for release is too indulgent to stop. Hakyeon guides Hongbin's hand to his own cock and pins him down by the shoulders, fingers sinking deep into the muscles underneath. He orders Hongbin to open his eyes, to look at him, and he does so without question; in his eyes Hakyeon sees again the luscious haze of being fully enthralled. He pours the rest of his energy into taking Hongbin fully, possessing him completely.

Hongbin comes with a voiceless shout, dirtying the bedspread before collapsing into his own mess. Hakyeon winces and lies to the side. He wants to be free of the sticky-hot collision of skin, but he keeps a hand on the small of Hongbin's back, the compulsion to nurture overcoming his discomfort.

Hongbin lies still, his breath steadying, while Hakyeon rubs circles into his back. He doesn't speak, and he doesn't move, and after awhile concern creeps over Hakyeon in the silence.

"Binnie?" he asks, at once wondering if the nickname is still acceptable after—all of that.

"What?" Hongbin asks, voice muffled by the blanket. "I know you're not going to ask me to cuddle. I'll kill you."

Hakyeon laughs. "I won't make you cuddle, I promise." He takes his hand back and busies himself discarding the condom, cleaning up with a wipe, unbuckling and removing his cock. He sits back against the headboard but he's still wound up, throbbing and hard. But the energy of the room is still, and he is at a bit of a loss after such a steep comedown.

He gets the feeling Hongbin doesn't want to talk, but he has to know.

"Was everything I did okay?" He pushes his sweaty bangs around his forehead. "If I did something you didn't like—"

Hongbin groans and turns his head toward Hakyeon. Hakyeon bites his lip and stares back, wondering if his own vulnerability is showing.

"Everything was great. You didn't do anything I didn't want."

Hongbin glances down, notices Hakyeon's fingers dragging through the top of his pubic hair.

"Did you come?"

Hakyeon narrows his eyes, somewhat sulky at the stupid question. "No."

Hongbin reaches across Hakyeon's thigh, grazing his own fingertips against Hakyeon's fingers.

"Do you want to?"

Hakyeon thinks that's  _ another _ stupid question, but then softens as he watches Hongbin twirl his fingers lightly in the curls at the base of Hakyeon's stomach, patiently waiting for an answer. Maybe it's not a stupid question—maybe it's a considerate one.

"Yes."

Hongbin moves and Hakyeon jumps. 

"It's okay," Hongbin says, lifting himself lazily to scoot closer. He glides his fingers against the wetness on Hakyeon's thighs. "I know what I'm doing."

And he  _ does;  _ he fucks Hakyeon with clever fingers, fast and skilled, thumb stroking his clit with a tempo that seems to mirror Hakyeon's pulse.

Hakyeon jerks when he comes, unwelcomely fast, head banging against the headboard, gripping Hongbin's forearm in place and yelling  _ there, there, there _ . Hongbin watches him with sleepy eyes, strokes softly against his lips, lets Hakyeon use his arm how he pleases until he comes a second time and sags forward.

After awhile, Hakyeon nudges Hongbin, who has dozed off with his hand still between Hakyeon's legs.

"Hongbin. Go shower. You're gross."

"You're gross," Hongbin mumbles, turning away and curling into a ball.

Hakyeon pokes his ass with a single toe. "Go shower before I pour the icebox on your head."

Hongbin mumbles something else, lies still until Hakyeon grabs the ice bucket and shakes it. 

"Fine," he says, glaring on his way to the bathroom. "I'm going."

Hakyeon expects distance after they sleep together, a certain amount of awkwardness in groups activities, a change in the closeness of the way they touch each other.

Hakyeon is happily surprised at the way nothing changes, yet nothing is ignored.

Jaehwan snickers at them the next morning, asks Hongbin if he's sore. Hongbin levels him with an unimpressed look, punches him in the arm, and asks Jaehwan if he's jealous.

  
Hakyeon hides a smile as Sanghyuk joins in on teasing Jaehwan, realizes that everyone knows and no one  _ cares _ , and for the first time appreciates that these five boys are his  _ home _ . 


	5. Sanghyuk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh. warning for me being incurably biased toward chasang, and piv sex if you're squicked by that

With Sanghyuk, the hero worship has always been there, easily readable in little ways that the maknae probably thought was stealth. Oh, but Hakyeon had never even imagined the possibility—like an older brother he watched his little boy grow and grow, blossoming in all different directions, musically and socially. He was so proud, knew better than anyone how hard Sanghyuk worked to claw his way to a place of respect and professionalism, all masked by a veneer of sheer indifference. It never dawned on Hakyeon that Sanghyuk rarely dated, rarely talked about others.

And, yes, Hakyeon had been blinded by his mother hen complex, saw Sanghyuk as that scrawny little boy well into his twenties, even as he surpassed Hakyeon in height, in weight, as his cheeks hollowed and his limbs thickened. He didn't see it. He couldn't. It was some sort of defense mechanism probably, as his friends in other circles whispered Sanghyuk's name, complimented his body, subtly asked about his love life.

"Sanghyuk?" Hakyeon would laugh other men's inquiries away. "He's such a  _ baby _ . Are you into that now?"

That feeling, that awkward displeasure in his gut that was relieved when they quit asking and felt suspiciously like jealousy? He was only protecting his baby boy.

It takes so long for Hakyeon to see past it, it takes two years away from him to finally see Sanghyuk for the man he has become.

They're alone when Hakyeon's mirage shatters, sitting together on Sanghyuk's secluded balcony. The night is beautiful, cast in the orange of city lights, and they're drinking soju from a slim black bottle that Sanghyuk claims he's saved for tonight.

Something about the way he says  _ tonight _ feels like a red flag, but Hakyeon ignores it. It's the post-discharge jitters, afraid of all he's missed out on. It must be, because the air is cool and the soju warms his belly, and he's dearly missed Sanghyuk's companionable silence interspersed with whatever thought might cross his mind, anything at all.

Sanghyuk's fingers play with the rim of the glass, twirling it on its edge. His hand is  _ long,  _ Hakyeon thinks, staring at the way it dwarfs the glass. His arm is long. His shoulders are wide, filling out his jacket in a way that makes Hakyeon feel strange. His profile is strong, austere against the backdrop of concrete buildings. Hakyeon thinks maybe he's had more than two drinks, because he's not sitting here with his little Hyogi. Sanghyuk is—a man, larger than most the guys he saw in the service. That cute little potato nose is powerful from the side, complimenting his heavy brow and strong chin.

"You're staring," Sanghyuk tells him, without looking.

Hakyeon doesn't look away at the comment. He watches, entranced, as Sanghyuk fiddles with the bold watch at his wrist. Hakyeon says,"You're… different."

Sanghyuk tries to hide a smile that is, blessedly, the same little smirk he's always had. "I'm not the one that's different."

Hakyeon doesn't know what that means, but he lets it slide, engrossed as he is in his newfound awareness. Sanghyuk pours himself another glass and brings it to his lips, and Hakyeon watches the long bulge of his Adam's apple slide up and down.

"Did you meet anyone while you were away?"

Hakyeon brightens, the sun emerging from cloud cover. "Oh, so many people. I have many fond memories, I've already told you some of them. Your time will be like that, too, you draw so many people in."

"I meant  _ men _ , hyung. Did you meet someone?"

Hakyeon barks out a laugh. "Are you asking me if I got laid, Sanghyuk?"

Sanghyuk shrugs with a single shoulder and downs the rest of his drink.

"Aside from it being, you know,  _ illegal _ ," Hakyeon's fingertips feel numb, and he knows it's not the alcohol, or the weather. He pushes them against the textured glass of the table between them. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Don't you know?" Sanghyuk's voice is small, incongruous with the tall frame bent into the folding chair. "Do you really not know?"

Hakyeon frowns. 

"You've been with everyone but me," Sanghyuk says. "What is it about me that you find so unappealing?"

With his heart in his throat, Hakyeon opens his mouth, but his voice can't seem to catch up to his thoughts. 

"I don't know if Shik or Jyani was first, but you had them as soon as you wanted them. Hongbin I understand, who  _ wouldn't  _ fuck Hongbin if he threw himself at their feet? And Daeguni, you're so close, they love you so wholly, so sweetly, maybe that was inevitable, too. But not me. You're a whore for everyone else, but you never even  _ look _ at me. So what is it?"

Hakyeon feels like his body is three times too small. Though he is a couple strides away, Sanghyuk feels like he's looming over him, pressing the question into his unsteady mind. 

Sanghyuk scoffs, and turns away toward the view. "You can't even answer me."

"It wasn't like that," Hakyeon says. He forces it out, because he has to meet Sanghyuk's animosity with  _ something _ . "Things just happened."

"They  _ just happened _ with everyone but me."

Hakyeon's head spins. What is happening? Sanghyuk doesn't even sound like himself. 

Hakyeon stands, then adjusts his pants in a habitual and nervous manner. He's afraid to approach Sanghyuk, scared of losing him, and growing angrier at the accusation that he's done something to hurt him on purpose. "Hyogi, at least look at me."

Hakyeon expects a few things when Sanghyuk turns, anger in the form of his usual passivity, probably, or less likely for him to be on the verge of tears. Instead, he stares at Hakyeon so vulnerable, and even in the simple low light Hakyeon can see in his expression hurt, and hope, and embarrassment.

"Baby…" Hakyeon says, instinctually opening his arms and moving toward him.

"Don't," Sanghyuk says, commanding but without force, holding a hand out between them so Hakyeon can't move close. "I'm not a child. I'm a man."

"I know." Hakyeon lets his arms fall back to his sides and bites his lip. "I know that. I'm so proud of you."

Another pessimistic huff from Sanghyuk that cuts Hakyeon to his core. "You're proud of me. Thanks. Do you want to give me a gold star? Feed me some apple juice?"

Hakyeon places his hands on his hips in a jerk, agitated. "What  _ do _ you want me to do? Since I seem to be doing everything wrong."

"I want you to touch me," Sanghyuk says, quite immediately, voice breaking on the word  _ touch _ as if it were torn straight from his chest. "But I don't need your pity."

He walks a wide berth around Hakyeon and shoves himself back into the apartment, leaving him there alone. Hakyeon doesn't know whether to follow him or not. Historically when Sanghyuk is upset he needs time alone, but Hakyeon thinks maybe the problem this time is that Sanghyuk has been on his own trying to sort this out for too long.

The full force of the conversation hits him then, the implications of what Sanghyuk had laid bare. Sanghyuk likes  _ men _ ? Or was Hakyeon some strange exception? With Wonshik and Jaehwan it had been so obvious that they liked men, and Taekwoon's late-night confessions of attraction to every gender had been so endearing. Hongbin, well—Hongbin will probably be unsure forever, his displeasure for romance and vulnerability battling his need for affection and sexual release.

But Sanghyuk. Hakyeon remembers his male friends' inquiries, wonders if Sanghyuk would have liked them. He does like attention, as sheepish as he is about it. Would Sanghyuk have dated his friends if given the chance? Would he have giggled at their physical affection, like he did Hakyeon's? Would he tell them his fears and his dreams, like he did Hakyeon? Would he tremble under their touch, moan into their kisses?

Spite flares through his core. Hakyeon clutches his stomach.

Back inside the apartment, Hakyeon carefully shuts the sliding glass door and glances around for Sanghyuk. Only the kitchen light is on, shining in from behind Sanghyuk. He's leaning with a hand on his desk and straightens when he sees Hakyeon, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he says at once. His eyes look wild, bouncing around the room. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

Hakyeon runs his fingers along his own jaw, over a prickly patch of stubble. He's not sure he wants Sanghyuk to be sorry. "Which part?"

"All of it. Please forget everything. Forget you came over. I was just—I don't know. I missed you. It's stupid." Sanghyuk sits in his desk chair, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He won't cry, not with Hakyeon here, but Hakyeon thinks the moment he left Sanghyuk might burst into tears."You should go."

Hakyeon kneels at his feet, sitting on his legs and carefully placing his finger tips on Sanghyuk's knee. He tries to look through Sanghyuk's fingers at his face, but it's too dark to see anything. He frowns. "I don't want to forget everything, and I'm not going to leave until we talk things through."

Sanghyuk groans and leans back. "I'm sorry I called you a whore. You're not. I don't think of you like that, I promise I don't."

"Well," Hakyeon shrugs, smirking. "I kind of am."

Sighing, Sanghyuk looks down at him. He looks miserable, and so fragile, like a heated breath might break him down. Joking won't do, Hakyeon realizes, not here. So he might as well rip the band-aid off completely.

"You want to sleep with me?" Hakyeon asks, staring at his fingers as he rubs Sanghyuk's knee.

Sanghyuk tenses. "I said forget it."

Hakyeon hums, a skeptical sound. "Not the kind of thing you just forget, when a best friend tells you they want to fuck." He holds behind Sanghyuk's knee. "We can, if you want."

Sanghyuk lets Hakyeon play with the fabric of his pants. Neither of them speak, and the electronic buzz of the heater feels louder with every passing second. The smell of Sanghyuk fills his senses suddenly; the sharp tang of soju and something spicy beneath that, something vague that clings to him and makes Hakyeon want to get closer, to press his face to his skin and inhale.

Hakyeon stands and pulls Sanghyuk up with him. He looks reluctant, but his lax body goes easily where Hakyeon wants it. His jacket is a deep brown denim, stiff underneath Hakyeon's hands when he clutches his biceps and strokes softly. Sanghyuk looks away when their eyes meet, his lips pursing to show off his dimples, twin pockets of cuteness above his lips.

It's so simple a thing, a gesture that Hakyeon has seen countless times before—when he's eating, particularly, or when he swallows in nervousness. But right now that small motion sends him over the edge, flooding him with memories of the past decade, of cuddling into Sanghyuk's hoodies and the ever-present compulsion to touch him. He draws Hakyeon in. He always has.

"Say something," Hakyeon urges him. "You know I'm not going to drop this."

Instead of words, Sanghyuk leans in to kiss him. It's one restrained peck at first, an exploration, then two more in quick succession as Hakyeon closes his eyes and allows him to do as he pleases. Hakyeon tilts his chin up just barely, but it's an explicit offering, and Sanghyuk opens his mouth this time, lingering kisses to him like a devotion. Slowly Hakyeon begins to kiss him back, following his tempo. He groans into Hakyeon, pulls him closer by the waist and kisses him deeply. Warm, precise, powerful. Hakyeon is mesmerized; he has kissed many men, most of them eager, some of them dominant, a few of them truly skilled—but he's never been kissed like this, like Sanghyuk is desperate to communicate something with the action. 

Hakyeon pulls away, faint with Sanghyuk's sentiment. Sanghyuk moves to follow his mouth but stops, collects himself. His eyes are still closed but he holds Hakyeon in place by his sides. 

Sanghyuk takes a deep breath and lets it go in a rush. "I love you."

"I love you, too. That hasn't changed—"

" _ Hyung _ ." Sanghyuk shakes Hakyeon by his sides. "I want to date you. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to sleep with you, yeah, but not just once. I want you to be mine."

Hakyeon parts his lips, still tingly from their kiss. He means to say something, acknowledge the confession at least, but—

It isn't something he ever considered plausible, dating one of his bandmates, much less  _ Sanghyuk _ . He thinks back to his last relationship—years ago now—how he was content, but he wasn't truly  _ in love _ , and he eventually had to face that breaking a good friend's heart was the only solution.

He would throw himself to the wolves before he did that to Sanghyuk. His darling, his baby boy, who looks at him now with equal parts confidence and fear. The two tend to wage war inside him, but courage always wins. He shines brightest when overcoming a challenge, when he realizes he is more capable and more beautiful than he previously imagined.

And Hakyeon loves watching it, because Sanghyuk is more beautiful than anyone he knows—

Oh. Oh,  _ no _ .

"I… "

"It's okay," Sanghyuk says. "Don't say anything, it's better that way. Just let me have this."

He holds Hakyeon to him, hand on the back of his neck, face tilted back to rest his chin on Hakyeon's head. It makes Hakyeon feel small—not physically, certainly, but emotionally, reminding him of being a child, of his older sisters holding him just to make a point that he was  _ the baby _ .

Hakyeon chews his bottom lip, shoulders hunched with tension though Sanghyuk rubs the back of his neck across the fuzzy hairs that have grown down since his last buzz.

Can he feel how hard Hakyeon's heart beats against their chests? Does he know how Hakyeon's fingers hover at his waist, trembling to touch, to make his revelation real?

No, he must not, because he releases Hakyeon with a breath that's not-quite a sigh, and steps back twice, giving only a little space between them. It is pointed enough though the gesture was light: if this is going to happen, Hakyeon has to be the one to initiate it.

Hakyeon feels off balance. Standing at a fork in the road, distressed at the idea of choosing either in order to leave the other behind. Oh, he knows what he  _ wants _ , but when has that ever been the best way to make a decision? Unfortunately, Hakyeon doesn't have the luxury of logical thought at the moment, can't fall back on his usual process of making lists or finding a sounding board.

No, this decision will be made right now. Step toward Sanghyuk, toward something  _ more _ , or step back into his role as leader, loyal friend and mentor, never anything more.

Sanghyuk jerks his watch off his wrist, forcing Hakyeon's attention back to his hands. He tosses the watch onto his desk. "Go home, hyung."

Grabbing Sanghyuk's wrists, he pulls them to his own waist again, frantic at the thought of having missed his chance. 

"I want to stay."

"Not the way I want you to stay."

He's looking at the door, and his voice sounds final. It has Hakyeon speaking before he can think.

"People would ask me about you, and I would lie."

Sanghyuk frowns. "About what?"

"They were interested in you, so I would tell them that you were taken."

"When I wasn't," Sanghyuk adds, somewhat needlessly.

Hakyeon feels his lip curl without permission. "Well I didn't have to lie when you were with," he twirls his hand in the air, "whatever her name was."

Sanghyuk sucks in his lips, something he only does when he's trying not to laugh. "You know her name is Chaerin. I was with her for over a year."

Hakyeon shrugs with more attitude than he means to, feeling silly and petty, but he remembers the bitterness of her name in his mouth, the sentiment that he couldn't designate as envy until now.

"You disliked her with a determination so unlike you, and you never told me why."

"It was just my intuition." Sanghyuk's fingers are inching him closer. "Obviously I was right. You broke up with her."

"Mmm." They're close enough now that Sanghyuk breathes it into his face. "You know, she had a theory about you."

Hakyeon shrugs. The vulnerability of the situation makes him look at Sanghyuk's mouth instead of his eyes as he speaks. "That I'm gay? I don't exactly hide it."

"Well," Sanghyuk's dimples pop out again as he hides a smirk, "that you're gay for  _ me _ , specifically."

Really, Hakyeon wants to be offended that the woman saw what he couldn't see for himself. But as he remembers the almost-aggression with which he'd initiate skinship in her presence, can almost hear the way he'd compete with her in conversation, all he can feel is embarrassment.

He stutters, flustered with the way Sanghyuk is looking at him, like he knows every devious thought he's ever tried to suppress. "I mean, we're all gay for each other, haven't you heard the rumors?"

Sanghyuk lowers his face to Hakyeon's neck and kisses it, short and neat, effectively cutting Hakyeon off. Hakyeon grunts, an unintelligible syllable forced from him in lieu of the embarrassment of outright moaning. His neck is tender, deceptively thin-skinned, and he likes kisses there a little too much.

"I see." He kisses Hakyeon's neck again, the same spot. "Is that why you'd lie to your friends?"

"Sanghyuk—"

He means to say something important, something profound about his reasoning, but Sanghyuk's tongue on his neck evaporates the thought from his mind.

"Yes," Sanghyuk says, switching sides. "Say my name."

Thinly restrained and suggestive, his words shoot lust through Hakyeon's spine. He grips Sanghyuk's arms while he kisses across and down his throat, loud and messy and everything Hakyeon wants.

He wants, he wants, he  _ wants _ . How long has he wanted?

Sanghyuk bites at the hollow of Hakyeon's throat, where his shirt prevents him from progressing further. Impossible for Hakyeon to hold back a moan at that, but he doesn't expect it to be so breathless.

Sanghyuk grabs him harder, each fingertip digging into a different muscle. Hakyeon pops the buttons open down his shirt, a practiced move, but no time to show off. Seduction is perhaps redundant here anyway; they both seem high off the fumes of repression.

His black shirt discarded on the ground—it's Dior he really should pick it up, fold it—Sanghyuk's hands are all over him like he wants them everywhere at once. His head is a little more clear with Sanghyuk's mouth on his shoulder.

"You've thought of this—before?" Hakyeon asks. 

"You know the answer is yes."

"How did it go?"

Sanghyuk grasps Hakyeon's ears and makes him look him in the eyes—only the slightest tilt up, but it matters at this moment, somehow, makes him feel like the younger brother again. "You talked less."

"I just want to know—" Sanghyuk's impatience, huffed through his nose, "—who topped?"

"I know you can't top." Sanghyuk bites the bony part of his shoulder, a distinctly unsexy nip. "I don't care."

"Well, I can. I like to. I just don't have my things here—" Hakyeon does something distinctly unelegant with his hands. "I just didn't know if you thought of me like this— or—"

Hakyeon doesn't know where this insecurity is coming from, always feels such pride in his body, in what he has to offer his lovers. He's worked hard for it. But Sanghyuk is different. His disappointment would mean so much more.

"I've known you were trans since before was in love with you," Sanghyuk says, eyes large and sincere, with his thumbs rubbing Hakyeon's shoulders. "And I still fell in love with you. So no, I don't fantasize about you with a cock."

They stare at each other, and Hakyeon thinks the back-lit shadows of his face might be sinister on anyone else, that those words might sound hollow in another voice. Love is a funny word for him, often given wholly and without thought. But it's return is something else altogether; when it's not the blind admiration of a fan, or the reaped affection from a friend—when it's another man confessing their passion, he has more cause than most to be cautious.

But this is his baby boy. And that means so much more now than it did an hour ago.

Wrapping his arms around Sanghyuk's neck, Hakyeon leans against him and raises a foot in the air. "What do you do to me in these fantasies?"

Sanghyuk pushes Hakyeon away, pointedly toward the single-pillowed double bed that occupies the corner. "I fuck you." He rolls his eyes. "Obviously."

Hakyeon continues to walk backward, stalked by Sanghyuk. His hand is over his bare chest and his voice is deadpan. "Oh, how romantic. Please, lover, my loins ache for you."

"Do you need to be seduced with words?" Sanghyuk asks. "Is that what gets you wet?"

Hakyeon is pushed into a seat on the bed. It squeaks, speaking volumes of its cheapness. Sanghyuk brushes his hands through Hakyeon's hair, using it to lift his face. Hakyeon is surprised to find his brows lifted in a way that says he's waiting for an answer—that the question wasn't a quip, but a query.

"I—" Hakyeon swallows. "Yes. I love being talked to."

"I think you just love attention."

It's a little demeaning, and a little cocky, just enough of both to make Hakyeon's toes dig into the floor. 

He brings Hakyeon's hands to his belt, and Hakyeon is obedient, unbuckles it and pulls it free as Sanghyuk shrugs off his jacket. Sanghyuk isn't wrong, he loves  _ any _ kind of attention, but there's something special about being fawned over verbally that encourages him to spread his legs.

"Maybe."

Sanghyuk loses his shirt and jeans, and then he's pressing Hakyeon back into the bed. They fall so comfortably together, and Hakyeon concedes that this is how he likes it most—on his back, legs wrapped around a man that could break him, but opts to worship him instead.

Sanghyuk anchors his wiggling hips with a single hand and rolls down against him. They both whine at different octaves, Sanghyuk surprisingly high. Hakyeon grabs his ass and pulls him back, keeping him down, where Hakyeon can rub himself up into Sanghyuk's cock.

He slinks down Hakyeon's body, tasting him, running his tongue through the tufts of hair on his chest and stomach. He pulls at Hakyeon's remaining clothes and spreads his legs wide, holding them open with his hands. Then—nothing. 

Hakyeon looks down to find Sanghyuk observing him, pulling him open with his thumbs. He isn't used to being inspected, certainly didn't prepare for it, and he wiggles a bit in discomfort.

Sanghyuk pokes at Hakyeon's hard clit with the tip of his tongue, wiggling it back and forth. Hakyeon clasps a hand over his mouth and swallows a shout, intensely aware of being against an apartment with a shared wall. 

"It's so big," Sanghyuk says, with an odd sort of fascinated innocence that belies what he's talking about. He runs a finger over the top and Hakyeon holds in another sound. "Is it more sensitive than—"

"—than when I was a woman?"

Hakyeon barks it out before he can think, spacey and on edge, turned on, vulnerable, and scared as hell that Sanghyuk is going to stop.

"...than before," Sanghyuk ends carefully, giving him a suspicious look.

Hakyeon puts his arms over his face. "I'm sorry. I'm defensive. I'm not—used to—"

"Being loved?" Sanghyuk asks, and it's so sweet, and sincere, and blunt that Hakyeon's eyes shine, wet at the corners.

Before any tears can fall, Sanghyuk leans down, takes Hakyeon's clit into his mouth in one lick and sucks  _ hard _ .

"Oh, fuck," Hakyeon says, thighs closing around Sanghyuk's ears, hand shooting up to brace himself on the wall. "Fuck, you can't just do that—"

Sanghyuk raises his head. "I can't what?" His square chin glistens in the light from the balcony. "Suck your dick?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, lowers his face again and sucks Hakyeon until he's convulsing against his ears and wailing into his hand. It's so much,  _ so much _ , Hakyeon doesn't know what to do with his body, so he shivers in place while Sanghyuk's mouth takes him apart.

Sanghyuk must sense his desperation as he gets close, yanks Hakyeon's arm to free his mouth. Hakyeon clamps his thighs around Sanghyuk's face and calls his name until he spills over, shaking residually as he gives up trying to control his body at all.

He's pulled farther down the bed by his thigh, and Sanghyuk finds his lips, licks sloppy into Hakyeon's mouth. Hakyeon doesn't enjoy the taste, but he bears it, amazed slightly that Sanghyuk seems to savor it; Sanghyuk is clumsy in his excitement, smears the wetness over Hakyeon's face only to lick it off again.

"Please," he pants into Hakyeon's face, smelling like him in the most intimate way. "Don't move."

He leaves, Hakyeon watching him hurry down the hall and turn into a room. Hakyeon lies back, wipes his face with the back of his hand, listens to the traffic below and registers vaguely that his right thigh is still convulsing.

Sanghyuk returns without his boxers, smothers Hakyeon like he was afraid he would leave. His cock slides between Hakyeon's lips, up and down while they kiss again, and Hakyeon realizes he left to put on a condom.

Hakyeon angles his hips to help the slide. "I thought you were going to talk to me," he taunts.

"My mouth was full," Sanghyuk says plainly.

Hakyeon snorts, teasing Sanghyuk's Adam's apple with his fingers. "Do you want me to ride you?"

Sanghyuk bites Hakyeon's throat, precisely where his own Adam's apple should be. He licks at his bite gingerly, and Hakyeon threads his fingers through Sanghyuk's hair, thinking that Sanghyuk found his favorite place to be touched, without much trouble.

"I would love to watch you ride me."

They switch places, Sanghyuk giggling at their ungraceful tangle of limbs, but goes quiet promptly as Hakyeon situates himself on Sanghyuk's lap, straightening his spine and hovering over his cock.

Hakyeon loves riding cock. Hakyeon loves riding cock because there is something deeply sensual about being watched while he moves in a rhythm. It isn't terribly different from dancing, the way he gets pleasure working his body for a captive audience.

And Sanghyuk looks so adorably smitten.

"You're so pretty," Sanghyuk sighs as Hakyeon guides him inside. "You try so hard to look perfect, but you look the best dirty and messy."

Hakyeon doubts the impartial truth of that, but he supposes sitting on a man's cock might make him partial. 

He balances on Sanghyuk's stomach and circles his hips, playing with direction and pressure. Sanghyuk tips his head back and groans.

"I don't think you've ever seen me properly dirty and messy," Hakyeon purrs.

Sanghyuk grabs at Hakyeon's thigh and whines. He's so magnificently easy to read, so unaffected with his reactions. Hakyeon recognizes, as he drags himself up and down Sanghyuk's cock, that the man is completely wrapped around his finger, no matter how much bravado he might show.

"I want to," Sanghyuk says. 

He plays with Hakyeon's torso as he bounces, grabbing his hips, rubbing his belly, running his finger along the curved edge of a top surgery scar. His gaze is so intent, takes in every snap of Hakyeon's hips and movement of his tongue, his hands endlessly exploring like he never thought he'd be here.

"Then fuck me right."

Hakyeon leans over and tugs at Sanghyuk until he sits up, guiding a hand around his waist. Sanghyuk pulls him closer, chest to chest, and looks concerned.

Hakyeon kisses the tip of his nose. "Don't make me do all the work."

He's teasing, but Sanghyuk takes the hint, hugging Hakyeon tight and thrusting up as he pulls Hakyeon down.

The combination is brutal and perfect, Hakyeon's favorite position. He hugs Sanghyuk's face to his chest, tries to match the rhythm, hearing his own loud voice bounce off the walls as if it belonged to someone else.

He feels the strange reality again as Sanghyuk controls him effortlessly: Sanghyuk is strong. Sanghyuk is large. Sanghyuk is a man. He feels so exquisitely out of control and comforted at the same time, at home in Sanghyuk's arms. He shoves his arm between them to rub his clit. 

"Yes, yes, yes," Hakyeon chants breathlessly, enraptured by the feel of Sanghyuk slamming inside him, the combined escalation of his body and mind. "Don't stop."

Hakyeon is so close and so tired when he finally lets go, leaning into Sanghyuk, giving into him completely. He feels himself gush over Sanghyuk's cock, soaking both their legs. He rams his hips down, clenches around Sanghyuk's cock and comes digging his nails into his back.

Sanghyuk follows him over the edge, whining and hugging Hakyeon so tight he struggles to breathe. He whispers  _ Yeonnie _ quietly, then topples backwards, taking Hakyeon with him.

Hakyeon feels wet and cold and tired and sore. But he feels absolutely cherished with the way Sanghyuk kneads his fingers into his waist and plays with his hair while snuggling his nose into Hakyeon's neck.

Hakyeon is the first to move, sits up and moves back so that they part, and watches Sanghyuk tie the condom and throw it away.

"Did you—" Sanghyuk asks slowly, feeling the top of his comforter, "did you squirt?"

"I'm sorry." Hakyeon says, wincing. "I didn't know it was going to happen."

"What the fuck," Sanghyuk says. "That's so hot."

Hakyeon flops back onto the bed in a dramatic way, making sure his hair hides his eyes, thoroughly embarrassed by that reaction.

"We can't sleep here now."

"Worth it."

"No it's not," Hakyeon groans. "I'm exhausted."

"You're old."

"Ugh."

Sanghyuk crawls into Hakyeon's space and pushes his hair away, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his eyelids. He lingers there, looking around Hakyeon's face like he has something to say.

"What is it?" he asks.

Sanghyuk's demeanour goes shy, quiet, like he hasn't just fucked Hakyeon senseless.

"It's okay if you don't want anything serious," he says. "I was pushy."

"You were honest."

Sanghyuk shrugs. "That always gets me in trouble."

Hakyeon kisses him like before, slow like every movement is important, like he can communicate his adoration through the gesture. He thinks about how it would feel, to wake up next to Sanghyuk and wear his clothes whenever he wants, to hold his hand while shopping, to take him out to dinner and watch him laugh and speak freely. 

Hakyeon has done all of these things before, he realizes, does all of these things on a regular basis. He gets a sinking feeling in his stomach, wondering just how long he's been in love with Sanghyuk and too dumb to notice.

"Let's just take things one day at a time."

**Author's Note:**

> a definitive list, so no one mistakes this for anything but a cishet's worst nightmare:
> 
> hakyeon: gay trans man  
> taekwoon: afab transmasc non-binary; pansexual  
> jaehwan: bisexual  
> wonshik: indeterminate form of queer with preference for men  
> hongbin: aromantic bisexual with preference for women  
> sanghyuk: *kanye shrug*
> 
>  _"I thought desire smaller, neater; I supposed it bound to its own organs as taste is bound to the mouth, vision to the eye. This feeling haunts and inhabits me, like a sickness, it covers me, like skin."_  
>  \- Sarah Waters
> 
> come yell at me about trans hakyeon on [twitter](http://twitter.com/vampiresanghyuk)


End file.
